


All Roads Lead...

by delighted



Series: Alaska Lodge AU [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Continuation, F/M, Gen, Intrigue, M/M, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 20:03:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: The continuation of myAlaska lodge AU.With Danny back in Chicago, Steve’s a bit adrift again, till Lucy offers him a new path, one that might just hold all the answers.(Synopsis of part one included.)





	All Roads Lead...

**Author's Note:**

> I’m pretty confident that this is what precisely _no one_ had in mind when they said they wanted more of [“The Light and Heat You Feel”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12700800/chapters/28961145).
> 
> Completely honestly, I was ready to scrap the whole notion of doing more in this AU, several times over. But I just kept going back to it... and once I found my path with it, I fell in love, and, well. Eventually, I got there. 
> 
> I’m including a recap for those who want to read this without reading part one, or who need a refresher, or you can skip right to it if you like.
> 
> Synopsis of _Light and Heat_ :  
> So, in part one, Danny’s a cop in Chicago, Lou’s his partner. Rachel and Stan are there, and are going through a divorce that’s nasty and messy. Danny’s been taking care of Grace and Charlie, but he’s really fighting the gloom... Lou suggests he needs a break, and offers his friend’s Alaska Lodge as the perfect get-away-and-clear-your-head. Leaving the kids with Lou, Danny agrees, and sets off for Alaska, where he meets a selection of somewhat Bond-esque characters who are clearly up to substantially more than just running a hunting lodge. Danny doesn’t pay too much attention to that, other than befriending the delightful Lucy, who suggests he might enjoy the company of seaplane pilot/fishing boat captain/former Navy SEAL... well, you know who. Steve and Danny hit it off, as Lucy knew they would, and a vacation romance blossoms.... Only, it turns out to be a lot more than just a vacation romance. Steve is looking to leave the lodge and its mysterious, covert-ops-type activities, and Danny offers a way out... come be with him in Chicago. Steve agrees, just as soon as summer’s over—and that’s the end of part one.

Danny’s been gone for less than two hours. Steve’s spent most of that time sitting at the kitchen table, looking at nothing in particular. Not really thinking, not really feeling, not really doing anything. He feels held in that nothingness. Thinks he could slip inside it and not look back until he has to. Until something forces him to. Thing is, he knows what that will be, and he knows it will come for him soon. Knows it like he knows he’ll respond in the way he always does, instinctively, with muscle memory, ingrained and bred into him, drilled into him. And he’s fine with that. It’s been his life for so long, and he’s damn good at it. But he’s had a taste now, of what life could be with something to balance that constant pull. Of what it might be like to answer to something else. And he liked it. A lot more than he would ever have imagined.... And he’s missing it already like part of him is physically gone. And that’s not something he’s ever felt before, and he hasn’t the foggiest idea how to deal with it.

It’s hours later when he begins to be drawn out of his thoughts. She doesn’t knock, doesn’t announce herself, he doesn’t even notice she’s come in, he just slowly starts to notice the lights are on, the fire’s been stoked, and there’s a smell of something warm and comforting coming from the oven. He notices the changes she makes happen before he’s aware of her presence in his cabin, and he’s struck, once more, that she’s a huge loss to the world of covert ops, to never have had a field career. She’s fucking brilliant on coms, one of the best, he’s never doubted that. But Luce has this inherent stealth Steve feels like he doesn’t come close to, and he thinks she’d be phenomenal if she ever wanted to be on the other side of an op.

She pours a glass of whiskey and sets it in front of him, sitting across from him, legs folded, holding herself almost in a ball, and sips her own whiskey.

“You’re already lost, aren’t you?”

It’s easier when it’s unsaid. Pain. Loss. Hurt. Lucy knows this, it’s why she always talks about it with him. Gets him to face what he’d never willingly face alone. It binds him to her, in some way. He thinks she knows this, thinks it’s why she does it... part of this powerful web she weaves around them, her lost agents, her rescued operatives, her saved boys. She finds them, like she found him, when they’re at that low point, the point they could just walk away. Disillusioned, crushed, broken. Abandoned, sometimes—that’s how she got Ralph—but always at that point there’s no one there for them, these men, boys really, who have been conditioned to be controlled by some invisible voice, some static-filtered order barked down a com line. They’re lost without that voice in their ear. Lucy knows this, knows how to use it, how to harness it to her own will. And they become hers.

She’s amassed quite the little empire this way, over the years she’s been doing it. Even Steve isn’t totally sure of her origin. Thinks it was probably MI5 or MI6, but hasn’t ever fully worked out which, and he’s never figured out how an American wound up running ops for the Brits. He does know it’s how she went out on her own though, because he knows Ralph got cut loose from SIS after an op so badly gone wrong there was no other way. Knows Lucy saved him. Thinks it’s probably one of the more romantic stories no one will ever hear, knows they’re rock solid and knows there are reasons why that he can’t begin to guess at.

But he does know he owes Lucy his own life, several times over. And she’s letting him go, wants him to go. Found him his out, even. It occurs to Steve, as he slowly sips his whiskey, not looking at Lucy, but feeling her presence at his kitchen table nonetheless, it occurs to him that she did this. She knew he wanted out, wanted a different life.... Didn’t know how to get one.

Lucy and her little operation in the woods, her off-grid collective of rescued agents and rogue operations and back doors and ways and means no official agency could get away with... Lucy got him the out he so badly needed. Just like she got him his out when he was about to wreck his Navy career on the rocks of his grief, got him out just in time for him to still be useful, and yes, that was part cunning and expertise on her part—find the agents just before they self-destruct, resurrect them to the good of the neutral guys who can actually do the work that really needs to be done, the work the “good guys” will never do. Get those lost souls back on track, get them functioning the way they were meant to.

She knows just as clearly when to let them go. He knew that, he thinks... he’s seen it happen a few times. Hadn’t ever really thought it would apply to him... he thought he’d stay with her forever. Thinks probably she knew better all along. No one stays forever. Except Ralph. Steve always thought Ralph was the luckiest guy he ever knew.

Now he’s sure it’s him.

And that, he thinks, is down to Lucy as well. Although how she managed it, he’s not at all sure.

“How’d you find him?”

She won’t play games, he knows, if he just asks.

She scoffs in her glass. “That’s the irony, sweetie. I didn’t.”

“You’d been looking, though.”

“Of course.”

“You, ah... you know my preferences.”

She just smiles.

“He really did just come on his own?”

Her eyebrows go up, her eyes are glistening. “Pretty perfect, huh?”

Steve isn’t sure he believes it. Even when he’d said it to Danny, he’d wondered. But he thinks Lucy wouldn’t lie to him, not about this, not now, not knowing what it means.

The timer on the oven dings just then and Lucy gets up and serves them some delicious casserole that’s soothing and herby and earthy and rustic and something Steve realizes he’ll miss quite painfully when he’s gone.

“You ever been to Chicago?” She asks it softly, sensing his thoughts, perhaps.

“Once, for training.” He smiles, remembering. “A long time ago....”

“Too cold for me,” Lucy says with a shiver.

His laugh is genuine. “Oh really?”

“It’s not like here.” She’s defensive. Alaska was her choice, and maybe it was practical (the location is kind of hard to beat if your focus is still somehow oddly about West versus East) but it _was_ her choice. “Here it’s cozy and majestic when it snows. Deadly, sometimes, yes. But large and epic and majestic. There, it’s just fucking brutal. That wind....” She shudders and pours herself more whiskey. “Whoever thought Chicago was a good place to build a city was an idiot.”

Steve narrows his eyes at her, and she has the decency to bite her lip. “I’m sure you’ll love it, darling.”

“I’m not exactly going for the weather.”

She softens at that. Even with all her machinations, her plotting, her planning, her stunning ability to organize and execute ruthless ops that cut to the heart of what needs to be done... Lucy is, at her core, a romantic. “No, of course not.”

They eat in silence for a while. She’s watching him like she’s concerned about something and it takes him a while before he realizes why she’s really here tonight.

“I’m not going to do something stupid.”

“No?”

He sighs. He has proven, over the years, a remarkable tendency to do just that—something stupid, reckless, dangerous... when he’s not at his best. When he gets emotional. When he feels lost.

Steve feels lost a lot. Lucy knows this. She’s seen him at his worst.

“You gonna watch my every move for the rest of the summer?”

“Should I?”

Leaning forward, grabbing the bottle for a refill, he meets her eyes. “I wouldn’t dare risk it now. Not now.” _Not now I actually have something to lose_ , he doesn’t say, but he knows she sees it in his eyes.

“I hope you mean that, love. I really like this one. He’s a good one. One of the really good ones.” Her eyes go a bit gooey and Steve bristles a bit. She, of course, notices. “Oh, relax honey. He’s all yours. I don’t think he can even see any of the rest of us pithy humans. He only has eyes for you.” Her smile grows a little smug.

“You somehow knew that from the beginning, didn’t you?” He’s seen her do it on many levels—match people up. Agents and handlers; unlikely allies across improbably lines; unusual connections within probable lines; all number of alliances others would never have anticipated. Lucy makes them happen with an ease and grace that is stunning if you don’t know it’s coming. But _love_. Surely that’s something altogether different.

Evidently not.

Her smile is soft and sweet and knowing, and he wonders how much she will never admit to. “I had a hunch, shall we say?”

He shakes his head at her. “That’s not a hunch, that’s... witchcraft.”

She laughs full-on, head back, joyful trill echoing in his too-empty cabin. “My grandmother would be delighted to hear you say that.”

They wind up sitting by the fire, snuggled together with mugs of spiked cocoa, the remains of a flourless chocolate cake mauled on the plate in front of them. Lucy runs her fingers though his hair.

“I will miss you, you know.”

“You say that to all your agents.”

“I do. But with you, I really mean it.”

“You can visit, you know.”

“Mmmm.” Her smile is bittersweet, but thoughtful. “If you ever end up back in Hawaii, maybe.”

He laughs at that. He misses the sun and the surf, certainly. But he misses another kind of warmth even more. And that particular heat is only to be found in Chicago.

He just has to somehow make it two more months....

 

The first night nearly kills him.

Maybe he’s being dramatic. It’s not like he’s not used to being alone. But his bed still smells like Danny, and he lies awake, breathing that in, remembering the warmth, the softness, the rough edges, the feel of him in his bed. He’s never thought of his bed as an empty expanse. A desolate, lonely place. It’s always been practical, sleep. You rest so you can get up and go again. He’s slept in places most people wouldn’t imagine could bring slumber. He’s had and lost lovers. Lost brutally, violently; lost slowly, achingly. But he’s never felt the absence of someone in his bed this acutely.

Glass of whiskey, sitting by the fire. At least he’s not in the bed, that empty place. But it’s almost worse by the fire because all he can see is Danny’s naked body spread beneath his, feeling that damn rug beneath his hands as he holds himself over that solid chest, golden hairs glittering in the firelight, expression of sheer bliss painted so clearly on his face... lighting up those blue eyes, reminding him of Hawaiian sunshine and the soft waves on Waikiki.

It’s funny, he thinks, that missing Danny is making him homesick. He’s barely missed Hawaii, not in any meaningful way, in more years than he can count. So why it should be that falling in love with a Jersey boy from Chicago should somehow spark that longing, he can’t begin to imagine. But it has. Powerfully. Maybe it’s that golden hair, those blue eyes—Danny looks like a beach, looks like he belongs on a beach. Steve wants to take him surfing, take him out on a boat that’s not for fishing, one that’s just for lying in the sun and drinking beers and basking in the heat of the afternoon sun.

He’s never going to make it to September. He’ll go crazy long before then. He’s actually starting to honestly panic about that when his phone, which he’s got resting on the arm of the chair (never letting it out of his reach is a habit he doesn’t think he’ll ever break) buzzes, and it nearly gives him a heart attack. Who’s texting him at... 2 am?

_Can’t sleep. You?_

Heart in throat, he huffs out a breath, rubs his hands over his head, swallows hard, and blinks his eyes to clear them.

_No_.

He should say more, wants to say more, has no idea what to say. And then his phone rings. He doesn’t need to look to know who it is.

“Hey.”

“Miss me already, huh?”

_God yes. More than you can imagine._ “Yeah, it’s just really hard to sleep without my teddy bear. I got used to him.”

Danny chuckles. Steve misses feeling it on his chest. “This really sucks, huh?”

“Yeah, it does.” Steve sighs. “How was your flight?”

“It took me away from you, so I kind of hated it on principle.”

He can’t help it, he smirks at that.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Thought you would.”

“I didn’t even say anything, how do you know how I reacted?”

“I heard it. I can tell.” Danny sighs. They’re like a pair of echoing sighs. This is beyond pathetic, Steve thinks. So, evidently, does Danny. “Well, we’re a bright pair, aren’t we. Is the summer over yet?”

They banter softly for a bit longer, and Steve begins to get a bit sleepy, gets up and gets back in bed. “My pillow smells of you,” he says as he sinks down in it.

“I’m wearing your shirt,” Danny admits. “I should have taken more. Should have left you with one of mine.”

Steve hesitates. “You kind of did,” he admits.

That surprises Danny. So, he hadn’t done it intentionally. He asks what Steve means.

“You left a sweater in your room. Luce told me. She was gonna ask if you wanted her to send it to you....” He leaves it at that, doesn’t want to presume.

“Naw, you keep it,” Danny says, easily. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m usually more careful than that.”

“I think you might have been a bit... _distracted_ while you were packing....”

Which is true. Steve had been doing his best to distract Danny from packing. Evidently he’d succeeded just a little. He’s glad, now, that he’ll have something, too. Maybe he’ll send Danny another tee shirt. They’re going to have to do _something_ other than talk pathetically on the phone like lovesick teenagers, or they’ll never make it till fall.

For now, though, they keep on like that till Steve yawns and Danny admits he needs to get up and take care of the kids, get ready for the week.

“Try to get some sleep,” Danny leaves him with. “I’ll call you tonight when I’m in bed.”

“I can’t wait.”

He does sleep after that, just a little, and so lightly that it barely feels like sleep, but when Lucy shows up in his bedroom doorway several hours later, thermos of coffee in hand, saying she’s left a tray of lodge breakfast on his kitchen counter, he doesn’t feel completely awful. Maybe he can do this.

“You look like death,” she says as she kisses him on the head, then hands him something soft. “Danny said to give it to you.”

He feels a pang at that—that Danny’d called her (or she called him?). But the sweater is cozy, and it smells even more like Danny than his bed does, so he’s grateful. He hugs it to him before he can think the better of it, but if Lucy notices, she doesn’t say a word. He knows she and Ralph spend a lot of nights apart, thinks maybe he should ask her for pointers. Maybe he will....

“Eat something, shower, try to be awake. It’s an easy day, but things need to be done....” She’s apologizing, he knows. Knows if she could, she’d empty his plate for the next few days. But he’s glad she can’t, to be honest. He knows ultimately he’ll do better being busy. Wallowing and Steve do not go hand in hand.

He nods, and she seems satisfied and leaves him in peace to get ready.

 

It _is_ an easy day, as far as these things go. Mostly checking the usual sources, following up on a few leads, maintenance work, nothing outrageous. Nothing new. But it usually is enough to keep him feeling fulfilled, feeling like he’s providing a service, being of use. He feels a little bit less useful than usual, and that bugs him just a bit.

Ralph notices something’s off, but he probably expected that—though he, unlike Lucy, won’t talk about the personal stuff. He does try to distract Steve, with mindless chatter of the kind that allows the listener to zone out if they need to. Great spy skill, Steve knows. Lucy had tried to get him better at it, but he’d not had that easy way with it that Ralph does. She always said he looked pained when he tried, and that was not a way to put others at ease. Putting others at ease is not Steve’s strongest suit. He’s much better at putting others under pressure. Or in imminent danger. But ease? Not so much.

Still, he’s grateful for Ralph’s easy chatter, and it is distracting, enough. And Lucy brings him dinner again... he thinks probably she’ll do that for a while. Knows she worries about his tendency to stop eating when he’s not focusing well.

He takes a long shower after, and sits in bed staring at his book, thinking surely Danny’s in bed by now.... Then he sees it’s earlier than he thinks. What does he usually do, he wonders. How’d he pass time, endless time alone, before that fiery blond took over his life? He has no idea. Isn’t at all sure he wants to remember.

Steve’s turned a few pages in his book, though he has no idea what the words were, thinks he hasn’t actually read a single one, when Danny finally calls.

“You in for the night?”

“Already in bed, actually....”

“It’s only... nine thirty?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure what else to do.”

Danny laughs at that, and it’s slightly ragged. He’s had a busy day, Steve realizes. Steve’s sat on a boat and listened to radio chatter and Ralph’s stories, and eaten gourmet food made by a professional chef, and Danny’s probably had to make three meals for him and his kids, done laundry, cleaned house, gone shopping.... Those suddenly seem like things more useful and productive than checking the usual channels for suspicious chatter.

“Tell me about your day,” Steve says, and his genuine interest must get through to Danny somehow, because he does.

 

The rest of the week goes much the same. Lucy’s got simple but busy tasks for Steve—he’s not really sure what she’s got going on, if she’s playing a longer game, or keeping something from him because she’s worried he’s not up for it, or if she’s giving him some time... but he grows increasingly restless all week. He keeps it from Lucy; he’s not really sure he manages to keep it from Ralph. By Friday, Ralph breaks.

“I think she’s scouting a new one.”

Steve can’t read his tone, but he suspects there’s an edge of something slightly anxious there—either for Steve’s reaction, or maybe about the new recruit. He doesn’t reply, but doesn’t give Ralph a look that says _I’m not interested_ , so Ralph hesitatingly continues.

“She gets this look... kind of a far away thing. She’s a bit distracted, a bit distant....”

It’s the most Ralph’s ever opened up to Steve about Lucy, and it makes him feel slightly strange. He sits still, then moves a bit closer, not really thinking it’ll help Ralph feel more comfortable, but he realizes it does, because he continues.

“You’ve noticed it before? Work like she’s had us doing all week? Keeping us just busy enough that we’re not likely to get in her hair, but it’s dull enough that we can’t not be aware that nothing important is really going on? Or maybe she’s got some vision that’s so long we can’t see it yet?”

Steve shakes his head. To be honest, he hasn’t really noticed it before, he usually just focuses on the work itself, and doesn’t really let much beyond that bother him. It’s only been since he’s been missing Danny that he’s become aware of that larger context. He’s not sure what to make of that.

“Well, it happens sometimes. Perhaps I notice more easily because I see her off-the-clock as it were.... Last time it happened, Roberto showed up a few days later. Perhaps I’m reading too much into it, but with your departure coming up, maybe I’ve been anticipating it.”

“You think she’s finding my replacement?”

Ralph grins, sweetly, kindly, and Steve thinks, for probably the first time, that Ralph’s more fond of Steve than he’s realized.

“No one could replace you, dear boy. But I do think she’s found someone new. What her intentions are, I’m not yet sure. _She_ may not be sure. But it might do us both some good to be on our toes.”

Steve nods thoughtfully. He has mixed feelings about training his replacement. Oddly, he’s not really sure why. Still, the thought stays with him, and when the next day Lucy sends him in the seaplane on a patrol of the further off locations like the hide and the so-called picnic island, he’s instantly on high alert. He doesn’t rush the tasks, though. He knows he’ll make a mistake, possibly a big one, if he does. So he pays probably more attention than usual and is out longer than he’d ordinarily be. When he gets back, it’s late, and he’s not really surprised to hear a knock on his door when he’s getting out of the shower.

“Hey, Berto,” Steve says warmly if a little resignedly as he lets him in, eying the tray in his hands and bottle of something tucked in the pocket of his puffy jacket. “No Lucy tonight, eh?”

Roberto bites his lip apologetically, looks uncertainly at Steve as he sets the tray down, starts to lay the food out. There’s enough for both of them, and he’s done it before, but only rarely, only when Lucy is otherwise occupied. “Thought it would be nice for us to have some time together,” is all he’ll say.

They sit, and Roberto pours them glasses of the wine he’s brought—a really lovely Chilean red—and when they’ve started on the main course, he takes a breath to speak.

“She’s got someone new. But something’s different.”

Steve narrows his eyes at Roberto. He’s the newest, so how would he know if something was different? Granted, Lucy’s kept him close—Steve has his theories on why that is, and it’s not just because of his skill behind the bar, although given Lucy’s fondness for a drink and her awareness that it’s a supremely useful skill, that is undoubtedly a big part of it. But Steve’s suspected she keeps Roberto close because of something that happened to him... how she got him. Steve knows the signs of PTSD. They all do. He’s got a bit of an in, is the point. Roberto, less than Ralph, but more than any of the others.

“Okay...” Steve finally says, all of that flooding his brain a little too much, swirling around with the red wine.

“I thought you should know.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Somehow... this one’s for you.”

“ _Okay_....” Steve’s not at all sure what that would mean.

“Just be aware. I’m not sure what she’s doing, what her endgame is. I just thought you deserved to know.”

Steve nods. Roberto’s always thought more highly of Steve than he feels he deserves. Steve knows a bit of his back story, knows his training far outpaces his own, knows too, his fall was a lot harder. Roberto’s story probably parallels Ralph’s, though he’s come from somewhere vaguely South American—and Roberto is not his real name, Steve’s sure of it. But Steve knows Roberto is what he’d call a super agent. Steve’s just a black op. To him, there’s a big difference. Steve can infiltrate and destroy. Roberto can play the long game, the really long game. It’s a skill set that baffles Steve, and leaves him more often than not feeling dizzy.

So, the new guy’s more like Steve, less like Roberto or Ralph. He guesses that’s the point. And, yeah, okay, it intrigues him. Just a little. Not enough to change his mind about anything, not enough to make him want to stay. But if Lucy’s suddenly collecting Navy SEALs, Steve’s going to be intrigued.

Several days go by with no Lucy, and no sign of a new guy. But they’re busy, with surveillance and tours and that special kind of guest activities the lodge specializes in during the summer months. Independent orgs who need intelligence or training. Summer Camp for wanna bes and startups, Ralph calls it. He and Steve run a few workshops for a group of humanitarian workers—either so they can play a double game on their mission, or so they’re prepared in case it goes south, he doesn’t ask which. They’re young, they’re enthusiastic, and Steve enjoys the work.

It’s late one night after a grueling week of summer camp when Lucy shows up on his doorstep with a bottle of whiskey and an envelope.

He opens the door wide to let her in. The fact she didn’t just let herself in tells him something’s up. He’s pretty sure it’s to do with her latest acquisition.

“So,” she starts, once they’ve got glasses and are sitting opposite each other by the fire. “Roberto warned you, I think....” She’s smiling fondly but a little bit sadly... and something else, maybe hopeful?

Steve nods. “He said something was up. And it was different somehow.”

She sighs. “I don’t know why I thought I could hide it from him. Yeah, this one’s special. Well, I think so, anyway. I’ll leave that up to you.” She sets the envelope down on the rug between them. “Look that over. Talk to whomever you need to... then come find me and let me know what you think.” She finishes her whiskey, gets up, kisses him on the head. “You have till noon tomorrow.”

A surge of energy floods his bloodstream, electric pulses sparking dormant synapses into action. This _is_ different. This is... she’s putting him on some new footing. This doesn’t feel like the simple being-let-go he’s been expecting. He’s not sure what to make of it, he’s too flooded by needing to know what’s going on. As soon as the door closes, he picks up the envelope. He’s sitting holding it, thinking about what it might be, and if he really wants to know... when his phone rings.

Talk about abrupt shifting of gears. Steve’s no idea how to hide from Danny that something’s up. Fortunately, he can tell right away he’s not going to need to. He’s never heard Danny sound so... _anxious_.

“Hey, what’s up, buddy?” He asks, shifting immediately into focusing on whatever’s happened.

“Right. Um, so. Okay. God, can we do this on Skype? I think I need to see you.”

“Yeah, sure. Give me five and I’ll call you back.”

He pulls out his set up for video calls, and probably a call to Danny in Chicago doesn’t require the same encryption codes that reaching Ralph on the boat in Monaco does, but it’s what he’s got.

Danny looks frazzled. He’s been drinking, Steve can see. And maybe crying?

“You’re freaking me out, what’s going on?”

“I’m not sure it’s a bad thing,” Danny says, seeing he’s startled Steve. “I’m just... _thrown_.”

“Just start at the beginning,” Steve says, calming instincts kicking in. It helps Danny, a little. Although, that might be the large swig of whatever he’s drinking.

“So, the divorce finally went through,” he begins. “And Rachel told me why it had been taking so long. Stan technically has rights to visit the kids, even though they’re mine, and he was fighting her for a bit on that, but he finally let go.”

“But why would that matter? He’s staying in Chicago, right?”

“ _Yeah_. But she’s not.”

Steve’s heart stops. “What?”

“Rachel’s leaving Chicago. I cannot fucking believe she didn’t tell me until now. I mean, what the hell was she thinking? I’m the one who should have known that, not Stan. I am so.... Ugh!” Danny takes another swig of his drink.

“Okay, easy, Danny. Where’s she going?”

“She doesn’t know yet. Somewhere sunny, she says. She’s done with winter, apparently. Seven years in Chicago have done her in, she says, she won’t live here for another winter.”

“Shit.”

“Ya think?”

“So, what’s her plan?”

“She’s got a headhunter finding her something. Her list is Florida, California... _or Hawaii_.”

Steve almost gasps, and he’s too late to hide the smile that forms.

“Yeah, I thought that would make you happy, but fuck. I’m like a year and a half away from pensioning out, and goddammit I’m not starting again, not at my age.”

“But, Danny. Hawaii... oh, buddy, you’d love it there. The sun, the surf, the pineapples!”

“Shut up, _just shut up_ , I can’t even think straight right now. I just cannot believe she didn’t tell me.”

“Alright, buddy, it’s okay, we’ll figure this out.” Steve’s trying not to be too excited. Granted, working at the training facility in Chicago had its appeal, but he’d always rather be by the sea. Always. “I can find work in any of those places, easy. You go where you need to for the kids, and I’ll make it work. So stop worrying about that part at least.”

“I could pension out early, I guess,” Danny starts. “It’d be less money, but I could do it. Retire. Open that restaurant I’ve always dreamed of.”

“What now?” This is news to Steve, and it tickles him somewhere deep in his heart.

“Yeah, well, it was something I used to think about, but Chicago kind of ruined it, because the last thing Chicago needs is another Italian restaurant.”

“You want to open an Italian restaurant?” Steve’s not sure if he’s being serious or if this is the booze talking. Booze and strain. It’s doing weird but cute things to Danny. He’s practically vibrating, and Steve wishes so much he could reach out and just _still_ him.

“You gotta problem with that?” It’s also making him fighty and defensive, and Steve finds it impossibly endearing.

“Not at all, I think it’s adorable.”

“Shut up. I’m drunk. Leave me alone.”

Steve smirks. “Not a chance.”

They talk for a while longer. About Danny’s grandmother’s recipes and the proper way to make marinara, and the best kind of pizza oven, and Steve feels dizzy but so enamored, and by the end of it, with Danny starting to fall asleep, and Steve suggesting he drink some water first, he’s still totally unsure how much of that was drunken rambling and how much truth there was in it, but he’s not going to deny that the possibility of Hawaii is stirring things in him he hadn’t known were still capable of stirring.

It’s not till he’s said goodnight and gone to get up that he remembers the envelope.

It’s nearly midnight, but if he only has till noon to let Lucy know what his answer is, and he has no idea what the question even is, he knows he has to start now. So he makes himself some coffee, then settles himself at the kitchen table, so he can spread the papers out and figure out what she’s after.

It’s a personnel file, that much is immediately clear. He’d assumed that was what it would be—the file on whomever it is she’s rescued. Takes him about five seconds to work out why she was so interested, and why she came to Steve.

The file is on a Navy SEAL. From Hawaii.

Sparing one moment for a thought that Hawaii keeps coming up, and that it’s doing something very strange to his heart, Steve rubs his face in his hands and starts to read.

Something _big_ went down. A lot of it is redacted, but Steve’s fairly sure he can work most of it out. Knows someone who can probably tell him the rest, if he thinks he needs to know. He’s not sure he does. He sees something of himself in this kid, figures Lucy does, too. And he slowly begins to see what she’s thinking.

On the one hand, the kid is a clear choice for her, right up her alley. Highly trained, ready to get himself out of special ops before he self-destructs, but knows he’ll be totally adrift and lost without the Navy telling him what to do. It’s possible she’s wanting someone with his skill set to replace Steve, but he thinks there’s more to it than that. Ralph could replace him, Roberto could. Heck, Chef could probably replace most of what Steve does. No, there’s something else Lucy’s getting at here, and Steve wishes he had a better eye for the long game, but even so, he thinks he probably sees what she’s getting at. Her comment about Hawaii the other night suddenly makes a whole lot more sense.

And then chills wash over him.

Rachel’s hired a headhunter to look for a job, and one of the places she is looking is Hawaii.

He suddenly imagines Lucy’s hands all over that. Knows he can’t prove it. Knows if this is something she’s decided she wants, she won’t admit it to Steve. But he knows now, deep in his blood, what she’s after. If it was something she sought out, or if it’s been kismet, he’s not sure. Danny supposedly was kismet—an assertion he’s not sure he’ll ever truly believe. But this... creating the perfect storm to bring her a new agent isn’t something he can imagine even for one second Lucy would do. Is capable of, yes. _Would_ do, never. 

So, Junior Reigns of Oahu is ripe for the picking, and Lucy is offering him to Steve, along with, presumably, the offer of a Hawaii branch of her little operation. 

Maybe she just wants a winter home that’s strategically better placed than Monaco. Maybe she’s tired of the yacht and casino set—she’s complained before, more than a little, how dated that all feels. Hell, maybe she just wants to learn to surf. Maybe she’s been looking for an in on Hawaii for a long time now. 

Maybe she just doesn’t want to lose Steve.

His heart swells at the thought. And then it clenches again, because Rachel deciding to leave Chicago... that’s just. How does someone make something like that happen? How do you convince someone that what they want most is to move somewhere with palm trees and ocean breezes? Steve’s head spins with it. Until he tells himself to stop. 

A more practical worry would be _how does he make sure Hawaii is what she chooses_?

He’s pretty sure it’ll be Lucy’s finger on that switch. 

Telling himself things will all look much clearer by the light of day, he gets up, puts the file in his safe, rinses out his glass, brushes his teeth, and climbs into bed to stare at the ceiling until he falls, restlessly, asleep.

He’s up at the crack of dawn, and over coffee decides it’s time for an op of his own. 

 

“So I’m guessing if I say _yes_ , suddenly Rachel’s going to land the perfect job with the perfect house, all on the island of Oahu.”

Lucy’s eyes open, smug smile already in place. A sleepy arm comes possessively around her. 

“Dear boy, you had better have coffee for me.” 

Steve picks up a mug from the table next to him, fills it with coffee from the thermos, holds it out for Ralph, who reluctantly sits up and takes it. 

“So civilized. I’ll take the credit for that.”

Steve chuckles, realizes it’s probably true. Certainly before he met Ralph, he wouldn’t have given a thought to the comfort of the bed mate of his target in such an op as this.

“Just give me five sips to wake me up, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Lucy, meanwhile, has sat up, and it’s not like Steve expected her to be shocked to find him perched on the edge of the ottoman at the end of her bed, but he had hoped for a little surprise. Which he realizes was dumb of him. Probably he had so easy a time getting into her quarters because she’d expected it. 

He sighs, as he thinks it, and sees her try to hide a grin in response. Ralph’s reached his “awake enough to get out of bed” stage, and he kisses Lucy on the head, hands her his mug, and lumbers off to the bathroom, presumably to shower. 

Which Steve thinks means he knows this conversation isn’t going to take very long. 

“Does that mean you’re saying _yes_?”

“I’d like to be sure what exactly I’m saying yes _to_ first....”

She quirks an eyebrow at him, tilting her head adorably, and Steve’s heart fills with affection for her. Which annoys him slightly, as she’s clearly been ruffling around in his private life, at the very least. Conspiring to control him utterly, at the worst. It frustrates him that he’s not more upset. But if it gets him the love of his life on the island of his dreams.... He’s not really sure he’s going to have it in him to complain.

Lucy, of course, knows it. 

Maybe because of that, because she feels some level of... not guilt. Something softer. But she holds out the mug for more coffee, and once he’s refilled it, she takes a deep breath—the one he knows means she’s going to share more than she’d planed on.

“She already _wanted_ to leave Chicago. Divorcing Stan just meant she was starting to plan it. If Danny didn’t see that, well, maybe it explains why their relationship didn’t last.” She takes a long sip of the coffee. Steve realizes he’s holding his breath. “If you imagine it’s difficult to convince someone who’s tired of winter that Hawaii would be a nice place to live....” She trails off, as though she’s expecting him to jump in. He’s starting to feel like an idiot, missing something that should be obvious. And then, he sees it.

“Oh my god, Ralph’s ready to retire, isn’t he.” Steve kicks himself for not having seen it sooner. He thinks he would have, if not for the distraction of Danny....

Her smile gives away her pride that he’s gotten there. “Good boy,” she whispers. 

And it’s like Steve’s unlocked some new level of Lucy, because she slowly starts to tell him everything. How Ralph had been talking retirement somewhere warm long before Steve had decided he was done with his chosen isolation. How the two had gone naturally together in her mind, and started her looking towards Hawaii. Danny’s arrival had been fortuitous. That really hadn’t had anything to do with her... though the rest of it had. Evidently planting the suggestion of tropical paradise in the mind of an exhausted, heart-sore, and winter-weary soul is easier than one might think, and Rachel hadn’t taken much prompting. (Okay, having an in at the world’s best recruiting firm has its perks, which is why Lucy has five ins at the top three agencies.)

Junior had been a bonus find. But one that had sealed the deal in her mind. And if she’s admitting, by confessing it, that she’d not believed Steve was really ready to step away from the game, not altogether, well, she knows her boys. 

Steve isn’t quick enough to alter his reaction, and he knows she sees it plainly. She’s not smug about it, though, just kind and knowing. 

“So, it all works out perfectly, then.”

“What about Danny?”

“The restaurant, you mean?”

It really should not surprise him that she knows that. But it does.

“There might be a little spot with an open lease and great bones. Needs a little TLC, but could be really cute....”

He’s shaking his head. “I should have known. It’s not like hospitality-as-front-for-spy-ring is some revolutionary new concept for you.”

Lucy starts to be mock offended but just dissolves into giggles instead.

“I really do adore him, Steve. I would do anything for the man you love anyway, but Danny is something truly special, and he won my heart while he was here too. If he wants a restaurant, of course I’m going to help. If he’ll let me.”

“I’m not sure if your kind of restaurant is what Danny has in mind....”

“Maybe let him decide that?” 

Steve “Mmmms” noncommittally. 

“The question I’m more interested in, is how do _you_ feel about it.”

“What will your role be?”

“Not much if I can help it. Berto and Chef will take over here, of course... and setting up in Hawaii would be my... transition. But Ralph wants to be done, wants to... have a normal life. And I want to give that to him.”

Steve’s skeptical, of course, that Lucy’s even capable of that—normalcy, stepping fully away.... And he thinks he sees maybe this is her way of balancing that. Handing reins over to him, to Roberto... knowing neither of them would ever truly step away from her, but would give her, unquestioningly, whatever she needed, wanted....

“I wouldn’t want you to have no role, Luce,” he says, leaning in. “I don’t think I could do it alone, without you.”

She grins. “That’s why I found you Junior. And there will be others. You’ll find them, you’ll see. But I’ll be there if you need me.”

“What if I just want you?”

“That too.”

“Hey, what about me?” Asks a sulky, silky voice from the doorway.

“I thought you wanted out?”

“I could say the same of you, dear boy.”

Steve thought he did. Thought he was ready to be done, done with field work, done with ops, done with subterfuge, intrigue... ready for something new. Training recruits has its appeal, for certain. He’s long looked up to Joe, long imagined someday he’d be that kind of role model, that kind of force in the lives of young SEALs. But if he’s truly honest, the idea of helping an injured SEAL find his way out, find his way to something new... well, that has an appeal all its own, and maybe... maybe it feels more... fitting.

Also, he’s trying really hard not to be completely swept away by the notion of returning home. Which he admits is getting harder and harder to do.

He leaves Lucy and Ralph, saying he needs to think, and to talk to Danny. And he starts to ask Lucy how much he can tell Danny, when Ralph answers the question on the tip of his tongue.

“Hold nothing back. No secrets, not from him, not now, not ever. Trust me.” And Ralph kisses him on the cheek. “It’s the only way you’ll know for sure.”

 

He’s got the whole day ahead of him, to try and work out what to say to Danny. And to worry, obsessively, about how he’ll take it. It occurs to him to wonder how much they can safely tell Rachel, and he thinks maybe he should have asked Lucy that. Deciding he needs to leave it up to Danny, Steve takes the boat out and lets himself drift in the middle of the lake for a good few hours, till his head’s a swirl of endless options, all of them focusing in the end on _home_.

There’s something undeniable in his heart that connects Danny and the island he grew up on. He’s drawn the comparisons before, between the sun, the pull of the tides, the soothing nature of the waves on the sand, the sparkling blue waters, and sparkling blue eyes.... The longer he sits with it the more certain he is, Hawaii is simply where they belong. 

By the time he starts the boat up to head back he realizes he’s starving, so when he makes it back to the dock and Roberto is waiting for him with a picnic basket, he’s grateful, and even more resolved. 

“Didn’t want you to decide on an empty stomach,” he calls, as Steve approaches. When he’s off the boat and Berto hands him the basket, Steve knows Berto can tell what he’s decided. He grins softly, bringing a hand to Steve’s face. “I’m glad,” he whispers. “Lucy will be too.”

“I still have to—” he starts, meaning he isn’t going to be sure till he knows Danny’s on board. Berto just smiles. 

“Of course.” 

But as Steve watches him walk away, he gets the sense things just clicked solidly into place.

 

“ _She what now_?”

Steve thinks he’s explained the whole thing at least three times by this point, but Danny’s still struggling to wrap his head around it.

“I mean, Rachel always hated Chicago, yes. But her job here is amazing, and the kids have done well, and okay, I’ve been miserable, and obviously she and Stan didn’t do so great either.... But how do you trick someone into deciding to move to Hawaii?”

“Danny, some things really are better left unexplained. Lucy assures me the idea was already in motion, all she did was filter the options.”

“And that doesn’t freak you out?” He rubs his face in his hands and Steve wishes he could kiss him till he settles down. “No, of course it doesn’t because you are used to this stuff. Lemme guess, there’s a restaurant with my name on it, waiting for me in Waikiki if I say _yes_.”

“It’s in Chinatown, and I was hoping you’d name it after me, but....”

“Oh my god you have got to be kidding me!” 

Steve bites his lip. “Which part?”

“Which—augh! Steven, seriously?”

“I was thinking ‘Steve’s’ has a nice ring to it....”

“You are so lucky I’m not there right now, babe.” 

Steve licks his lips and Danny isn’t able to disguise the shiver that runs through him. Even like this, flustered, confused, startled even, the electricity between them is palpable. 

“Please, Danny? I can’t explain it, I just know it’s where we’re meant to be. I can’t stop thinking about sitting with you on the chairs at the beach at my dad’s house.... Watching the kids play on the sand while steaks sizzle on the grill. I can help you with the restaurant, this new kid’ll run all the ops, it’ll be like we’re retired. You won’t even know there’s anything going on—you didn’t know what the Lodge was running in the background... it’ll be just like that.”

Danny scoffs. “I somehow very much doubt that, babe.” He sighs, messing his hair with a frustrated gesture. “Tell me about these chairs on the beach....” His tone’s gone soft, there’s this air of inevitability about it that Steve thinks he recognizes. And he knows then his heart was right, and this is what’s meant to be. 

He tells Danny not just about the chairs, but about the upstairs lanai, about how beautiful the sunset looks from there, how magical the moonlight is on the water. He tells him about the rooms for the kids, the lawn that’s more than big enough for _three_ trampolines if they want them. The school that’s right nearby. The park across from the aquarium, the kids swimming pools at the beach. Hiking, surfing, paddle boarding, sailing.... and eventually, Danny’s melting. Laughing, sighing, and looking at him so so fondly Steve physically aches that he’s just a screen image and not actually there with him. 

“Okay, babe. You win. God, I just want to be with you, I really don’t care where we are. The kids’ll love it. That’s for sure. And Lucy or not, the Oahu job is the best offer Rachel’s gotten. Did you know it even comes with a house? I guess that’s kind of standard for there, but still. She’s kind of wild about the idea. Though maybe that’s just Lucy’s brainwashing....”

“Are you going to tell her?”

Danny pauses for a moment, but only just. “Naw,” he sighs. “She thinks she’s got this on her merit, and she needs that after what Stan did to her. Let her think she’s earned it.”

“She has, Danny. Lucy wouldn’t get her something she wasn’t qualified for, wouldn’t succeed at.”

“What about me?” Danny asks, more softly. “What’ve I done to earn myself a restaurant? And don’t say _you_ , that’s crass and makes me feel cheap.”

Steve grins lasciviously, but then narrows his expression into something more serious. “Lucy adores you, bud. Besides, from her perspective, it’s an investment in her retirement. If I say yes—if _you_ say yes—she’s one big step closer to feeling she can hang her heels up and sit by the pool, sipping cocktails while Ralph works on his tan.”

“He really wants to be in Hawaii, huh? I’d have pegged him for a Riviera kinda guy.”

“Too many old contacts, I think.”

“This really is happening, isn’t it?”

“Only if you want it.”

“I want _you_.”

It’s not unexpected, but it catches Steve in the gut regardless. 

“Is that a yes?”

Danny closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. “ _It’s a yes_.”

 

Lucy’s sitting in the library by the fire when Steve finds her, and either she really doesn’t know, until she sees him, what his answer will be, or she does a good job of faking it.

“Oh, sweetie. I’m _so_ thrilled.” She jumps to her bare feet and wraps herself around him. “Kiss Danny for me, will you?”

He knows he looks puzzled, when she pulls back from the hug. She grins hugely at him. “Well, don’t you think you should go help him pack?”

“Don’t you need me for the rest of the season?” There’s only a few weeks left, but they’re pretty key weeks.

“Ralph says he can handle it. Says it’s the least he can do, since you’re his ticket to the island life.”

“He really does want Hawaii?”

Lucy’s grin turns sheepish. “He might have noticed my slight aloha obsession as well....” Her dark eyes flash with mischief, and he realizes Danny’s right. There’s no way their lives on Oahu will be as peaceful and as simple as Steve’s described. But he’s absolutely certain they will be fun.


End file.
